


Wisteria

by lizandletdie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Prompt Fic, rumbelle baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1358596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandletdie/pseuds/lizandletdie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumplestiltskin and Belle discuss paint colors.  Fluffy fluff ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wisteria

**Author's Note:**

> Dontbrittathis on Tumblr prompted:  
> Rumbelle are redecorating and arguing about paint colors.
> 
> This is part of my 300 follower/20k posts/wedding weekend prompathon.
> 
> I hate that I have to do this, but apparently I do. If you're reading this fic anywhere besides AO3, it was posted without my consent and likely profited someone else. Please consider [donating](https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_donations&business=CZNGXGNP4PRX4&lc=US&item_name=The%20Mantis%20Fund&currency_code=USD&bn=PP%2dDonationsBF%3abtn_donate_SM%2egif%3aNonHosted) or swinging by my Tumblr (standbyyourmantis) to let me know what you thought!

"What about this?" Rumpelstiltskin says, producing a paint sample in a pale shade of blue.  
“Rumpel,” Belle scolds him sweetly, “you can’t paint the nursery blue.”  
“I beg to differ,” he replies, “I can paint it any color I want.”  
“In this world, blue is supposed to be for boys.”  
“Says who?” He shoots back with a wink, “I’ll have you know that up until the 1950s blue was the color for girls and pink for boys.” He doesn’t know why he knew that, Mr. Gold had been perhaps a bit over-fond of Jeopardy! but this still feels like odd knowledge to have. “Something to do with virginity, it’s why brides wear blue.”  
Belle giggles at this, tilting her head into his arm. She’s shorter than he’s used to, having finally begun to forgo heels in the second trimester as she found her equilibrium thrown off too much.  
“All the same, I’d rather avoid making reference to our daughter’s virginity.” She flips out a sample in a pastel pink, “what about this one?” She asks.  
“Its beautiful, dear.” And it is, but how can he make her understand? This all seems silly to him, his son having used whatever was available and worn largely undyed linen until he was dropped in this world. In the time since, everything that has meant anything to him — teacups and soft dresses swirling around ankles and eyes the color of the sea — have been blue. He cannot think of his daughter without seeing those same eyes, can’t imagine a future where blue skirts don’t brush past him as he works. His everything is here, inside this small woman whose hand rests on her swollen belly where their daughter is growing slowly but surely.  
As if reading the direction of his thoughts, Belle smiles up at him from his arm, flipping through the samples again.  
“A compromise, then,” she pulls out a pretty shade of wisteria and hands it to him.  
“A wonderful compromise,” he says as he kisses her temple and it is. For this woman and the future she holds for him, he will learn to love wisteria.

 


End file.
